Chapter 3

After leaving the room, I walk down the hall to the kitchen and begin to prepare chicken, potatoes, and tea. As I go about this task I replay the events of the past two days in my mind. Who had murdered her parents and why? Why did none of her relatives want to take her and Charles in? They certainly are no trouble to take care of. Why does my scarred face not bother her? Why is she not mad at me for the liberty I took that first night? What did she mean when she said that I have been gentler with Charles and her than any other man has ever been?

With lunch prepared and a bottle warmed for Charles I carry a tray to Marie's room. Stopping at the door I knock softly and wait for her to answer.

"Come in," she calls.

As I open the door I notice that she is sitting on the sofa with Charles in her arms. She is wearing a blue dress that seems to make her blue eyes even brighter. "If you would like, we could go to the kitchen to eat since you are up and about."

"That would be wonderful." She says smiling at me. She stands up with Charles in her arms and walks towards me much steadier than she had been earlier today. "When we are finished eating will you take me to your study?"

"Of course," I say as we head out the bedroom door and down the hall to the kitchen.

Entering the kitchen I sit the tray on the counter and pull a chair out for Marie to sit on.

"Thank you," she says smiling up at me.

"You are welcome." I reply. "Let me get you your lunch and then I will take Charles so you can eat."

"But if you are holding Charles how are you going to eat?" she asks.

"I will eat later," I say hoping that will satisfy her for now. I only eat when it is necessary which is usually only once a day if at all. I quickly transfer the food from the tray to the table and then I gently take Charles into my arms. As I do this he gives a squeal of delight and smiles at me as usual.

"Thank you," she says taking a bite of chicken, "this is delicious."

"Thank you," I reply. "I am glad you like it." Getting the bottle from the tray I sit down across from Marie at the table and offer the bottle to Charles. He accepts it greedily.

"You would make a great father," Marie says after watching me with Charles for a while.

"You have got to be joking," I say harshly, caught completely off guard by her outlandish suggestion. "I may have never seen a woman naked before but I do know that it takes both a man and a woman to create a child and that is the only way you can become a father. No woman would ever lay with me therefore I will never be a father." I say sternly. With that said I get up and quickly leave the room retreating to my own room and locking the door incase she would decide to follow me. I do not wish to discuss this matter any further with her. Sitting down in my chair I look down at Charles as he resumes drinking from his bottle and realize for the first time just how much the thought of never being a father hurts. Before now I had never given any thought to being a father, it had seemed pointless to think of such a thing and it had not bothered me at all... until now.

"Erik?" Marie calls softly as she taps on my door. "I'm sorry about earlier. Please open the door."

Getting up reluctantly I walk to the door and unlock it, unable to resist the pleading in her voice. I open it only far enough for me to step outside the door and pull it shut behind me quickly. I do not wish for her to see my room which looks more like a tomb than a bedroom with its black tapestries covering the walls and the coffin where I sleep surrounded by black morning candles and a large requiem hanging on the one wall. But it is rather fitting for me, the living corpse as I was called while I was in the gypsy camp when I was a young boy, with my deeply, sunken eyes and lack of an actual nose and my pale skin and long, bony fingers. It still amazes me that she has not once looked at me in fear or repulsion.

"Please forgive me Erik," she begs softly as she embraces me as soon as I am outside of my room. "I did not mean to upset you. I just..."

"Forget about earlier." I say, interrupting her as I remove myself from her embrace. "I do not wish to discuss it any further. Come, let us go to the study." I say, hoping to change the subject.

"That sounds like a splendid idea," she says knowing not to press the issue of the earlier conversation.

Leading her down the hall the short distance to the study I look down at Charles noticing that since he has finished his bottle he is now sleeping in my arms. He is such a pleasant baby. Opening the door to the study I step aside, allowing Marie to enter first. "After you," I say while bowing gracefully.

"Thank you," she says with a smile as she enters the room. As she looks around she seems pleased with what she sees. The floor is covered with thick Persian carpeting and there are Persian tapestries hanging on the walls. A large pipe organ occupies one whole wall while along another wall I have a fireplace. There are several bookshelves lining the other two walls. I have a black leather couch and two matching chairs sitting in front of the fireplace along with a coffee table.

"Please, have a seat." I say to Marie. As she sits on the couch I walk over to her. "If you would hold Charles for a moment I will go get the crib."

"Of course," she says holding out her arms for the sleeping child.

"I shall be right back," I say before I turn to leave the room. Hurrying down the hall I retrieve the crib from Marie's room and bring it to the study and sit it down in the far corner.

"Thank you," she says softly as I take Charles from her arms once more and place him in the crib.

"You are quite welcome, my dear," I reply sitting down in the chair furthest from Marie. I decide that now would be a good time to get some of the answers to some of the questions that have been bothering me. "How old are you Marie?" I ask conversationally, unsure of how to go about this without seeming to be too forward with my questions.

"I am twenty-three years old," she says smiling at me sweetly. "And how old are you Erik?" she asks without a moment's hesitation. Obviously feeling completely at ease with the conversation that I have just begun.

"I do not really know how old I am. My mother was never one to celebrate my birth and I lost track long ago. I am in my fifties of that I am sure." I reply honestly after a moment, having been caught off guard by her question.

"Didn't you ever have even one birthday party?" she asks as if finding the fact hard to believe.

"There was one time," I begin not really knowing why I am telling her this, "when I was five years old. My mother's friend Mademoiselle Perrault had insisted that she have a dinner for me to celebrate my birthday saying that it was not right to keep ignoring it. My mother tried to convince Mademoiselle Perrault that a dinner would be pointless, reminding her that food does not interest me but Mademoiselle Perrault was very persist about it and my mother eventually gave in reluctantly. When she told me about the dinner I acted uncaring as she knew I would so to get me interested she told me that Mademoiselle Perrault was going to bring me a birthday present and I had asked her if she was going to give me a present as well. She asked me what it was that I wanted. Never feeling comfortable asking her for anything I hesitated but after she had threatened that if I did not tell her right away I would get nothing I reluctantly told her. I had thought it was quite a simple request, two kisses is all, one for now and one to save for later when the first one was all used up. She got very upset with me and told me never to ask such a thing again. Not understanding why she was so mad at me for asking her what seemed to me such a simple thing I went to my room and did the unthinkable. I went down to dinner without my mask. My mother ordered me back to my room to put it on but I refused, telling her that I did not want to wear the mask, no one else wore a mask and it is too tight and hurts my face. This caused her to become more furious with me. I guess I had gone too far for she grabbed me and drug me up to her room and stood me in front of the only mirror in the house. That is when I seen the monster, which I later realized was not a trick of the mirror as I had first suspected but was really myself. In fear I began hitting the mirror breaking it into several pieces cutting myself in the process. Mademoiselle Perrault pulled the shards of glass from my hands and wrists and bandaged my cuts. Mademoiselle Perrault sat with me that night but my mother never came into the room. When I woke from my first nightmare I called for my mother. Mademoiselle Perrault made her come to me. My mother had made me a new mask and when she put it on she told me that as long as I wore my mask I would not see the monster... that my mask was magical and would keep the monster away. Needless to say we never celebrated my birthday again and when I figured out that I was the monster in the mirror I understood why my mother would not kiss me." I slump back in the chair and close my eyes, feeling drained from the exertion of sharing such a painful memory with her.

"That is a terrible thing your mother did to you Erik." She says softly. Getting up soundlessly she walks over to my chair and lays a gentle hand on my deformed cheek. "How could a mother deny her son such a simple request?" she says in disbelief with her hand caressing my cheek.

"How can you ask such a question?" I ask surprised that she would even question such a reaction. "No woman would ever kiss such a face." I state flatly. "Could we please change the subject?" I ask trying to hold back my temper... she is blocking me from getting off my chair and I am feeling rather cornered... every instinct is screaming to move her.

"I am sorry you feel that way Erik." She says as she removes her hand from my cheek and steps back from my chair.

I quickly stand up and turn away from her. "There is nothing to feel sorry about," I state. "It is I who should apologize. I should never have burdened you with my past." Needing to escape this conversation and to release this tension that is building in me I sit down at the organ and begin to play. It is a sad song, the one I had been singing to Marie when she had woken the first time. I do not know why I am playing it now.

"What a lovely song," Marie says as she comes up behind me and lays a hand on my shoulder. "The melody sounds so familiar. What is it called?"

"It is called The Awakening and it sounds familiar to you because that is what I was singing to you when you first woke up." I answer as I continue to play.

"Did you write it?" she asks as she sits next to me on the bench.

"Yes, I wrote it long ago when I was staying with a master mason. I had been around 15 then and had felt love for the first time. His daughter Lucinda had come home for the summer from school and made life very difficult for me. I avoided her as much as possible but she cornered me one night in the rooftop garden and demanded that I remove the mask. Her father stepped out of the shadows and took her side in the matter ordering me to remove my mask. Unable to disobey my master I did as he said. Lucinda screamed and ran from me until she was stopped by the roof's ledge. The stonework was old and weathered and when she leaned against the ledge it crumbled and she fell to her death two stories below." I say as the last note fades away. Why do I keep telling her these things? I do not wish for her to pity me but surely she must after hearing what my past has been like.

Sensing that I do not want to be pitied she instead says, "Would you like to hear about my past?"

"Of course," I reply glad that she did not comment on Lucinda's death. "But come, let us sit in front of the fire, you will be more comfortable there." I say as I return to the chair I had been sitting in earlier.

She sits on the end of the couch that is closest to me this time, curling up in the corner she begins, "I had an easy childhood. My parents were living quite comfortably thanks to my father's hard work but they never took money for granted nor did they flaunt it. I had received a good education and had returned home when my schooling was complete. In the next couple of years some of my father's business investments went bad and that's when things began to go wrong. My mother was pregnant with Charles and my father was trying to get back on his feet. Shortly after Charles was born, my parents and I were walking home from dinner when two men came out of the shadows and attacked us. They had knives and stabbed my mother and father so many times. I still am unsure of how I got away but I remember hiding where I could see them but they couldn't see me. I felt so helpless cowering out of sight while my parents screamed out in pain and eventually bled to death in the gutter. I could not force my legs to move I could not run to get help or to even go to them and fight their attackers. I know it would have been useless to try to fight, I would have ended up dead just like them and then Charles would have been alone in this world. I think that is the only thought that kept me from revealing myself to them. Once I was sure the men were gone I went to my parents. My mother made me promise to take care of Charles. My father insisted that one of our relatives would take us in. I promised that I would and kissed them both goodbye. With my parents gone, the bank took our house and everything in it. With no money to my name, none of our relatives would take us in saying that they didn't have room or simply closing the door in our faces. I was forced to live on the streets with Charles for the past two weeks. Getting milk for Charles wasn't a problem, a night time visit to a farm on the outskirts of town allowed me to get fresh milk and the cold weather helped it to keep during the day. I believe that the two men you killed may have been the two that killed my parents. I was so scared Erik, I know I would be dead if it weren't for you. I do not know how I will ever be able to repay you for the kindness you've shown Charles and me."

"I told you before, you do not owe me anything. I am glad I could be of service to you. You are not in debt to me and I do not want you to feel that you are. Do I make myself clear?" I say sternly.

"Yes, perfectly clear." She replies. Changing the subject she then says, "we are underground aren't we?"

"Yes, five stories below the Paris Opera House." I reply knowing it would be useless to lie to her. She is a smart girl. "I find it easier to avoid people if I live where they do not venture."

"Erik, are you the Phantom of the Opera?" she asks calmly. I had figured that if she found out I was the Phantom she would run and lock herself in her room or flee my house.

"Some have called me that," I say. "The managers who pay me a salary of twenty thousand francs a month believe me to be a phantom," I admit with a smile.

"Well," she says smiling brightly, "it is an honor to meet you Monsieur Phantom. You have a lovely home."

"Thank you Mademoiselle Marie," I say returning her smile relaxing greatly now that I know that she is not frightened by who I am or where I live.

"How did you come about a place such as this?" she asks curiously while gazing around the room.

"I was one of the main contractors who built the Paris Opera House. I worked on this building for fifteen years and while the others were home in their beds I was working on my own home," I explain.

"You have done a wonderful job on both the house and your haunting from what I have read," she says sincerely returning her gaze to me.

"Thank you," I reply awed by how easily she has accepted these surroundings as if it was nothing unusual for a man to build his home five stories below the streets of Paris and take on the behaviors of a phantom to make a living. "But, do you not find the way I live to be unusual?" I ask unable to allow myself the flicker of hope that says she is different than anyone I have ever known. I have given my trust in the past only to be betrayed and I have vowed never to make that mistake again.

"Unusual? Yes, but I can understand why you would choose to live down here. It is so peaceful here, free of the troubles of life up above. I have never felt such a peacefulness in my entire life," she says with pure sweetness in her voice. "I do not have the fears that I have had to face for the last three weeks since my parents were murdered. I do not have to fear for my life or the life of my brother. I can easily understand why you live down here. It is such a relief from the life I have been forced to live above," she says as she releases a sigh of contentment.

"How is it you can feel safe down here with me?" I ask still not convinced that she meant all she was saying. "You said yourself that you have read of what has happened at the hands of the Phantom. Did you not read where I murdered Joseph Buquet or of the incident with the chandelier that I can guarantee was not an accident. Did you not read of what happened to Christine Daee? I did kidnap her and brought her down here. I almost killed her young lover Raoul but she begged me to release him and even kissed me to persuade me. When she kissed me it was so sweet and sincere... I knew then that I had won but I also realized that she belonged in the world above not down here where the sun never shines. I ordered Raoul to take her far away from here. Can you still say that you do not fear me?" I ask rather harshly.

"Yes, I have read about those incidents and others as well," she begins, "but I do not fear you. You have given me no reason to fear you and I feel quite safe in your company. If I feared you I can assure you that I would never put my brother in such a danger. I trust you with both our lives," she says looking at me the entire time and I see that she means what she says.

"How can a woman as lovely as you trust a hideous monster like me?" I ask doubtfully, fighting the flicker of hope that is gnawing at the back of my mind, telling me that she is different.

"I have told you before, you are not a monster," she says exasperatedly. "A monster would not have saved me but would have joined in the beating and the raping that was sure to follow. When are you going to stop believing what everyone has made you think yourself to be your whole life and see that you are just a man like any other?" she questions sadly.

"No one has made me believe that I am anything but what I am and that is a monster!" I exclaim.

"You said yourself that you are just a man. That was in the song you were singing me and you were correct," she states flatly.

"I was a young fool when I wrote that song and I was wrong!" I state lividly.

"You were not a young fool but you are behaving like one now!" she says adamantly as she gets off the couch and takes the two short steps to stand in front of me once again blocking my escape from the chair. If I were not so agitated I would have to laugh at the stance she has taken. She is looming in front of me with her hands planted firmly on her hips and a look of exasperation on her beautiful face.

"I would not block my chair if I were you," I say threateningly as a muscle twitches in my jaw. "I do not take being cornered very well and I will not be held responsible for what I may do."

Ignoring what I just said she takes a step closer and asks softly, "Why do you not believe me when I say that I see nothing resembling a monster sitting in front of me?"

"Because I am a monster! I have seen my face and I know what I have done in the past as well as what I am capable of doing!" I say venomously.

As though she is not aware of the danger she is in she reaches out and takes my hand in hers. "That was in the past Erik," she says soothingly as if trying to comfort a small child. "We are all forced to do things we would never do if we had a real choice in the matter. I too have seen your face. I am looking at it right now and I do not see a monster sitting before me."

I snatch my hand away from hers with a swiftness that stuns even myself. "What makes you think I was forced to do everything I have done? I did not have to kill those two men who were beating you. I could have just knocked them out or scared them off just as easily," I counter, ignoring her last comment completely.

Standing her ground she responds in earnest. "But you did because you knew if you allowed them to live they would do the same thing to some other woman and may have possibly tracked me down and finished what they had started." When I would have interrupted she pressed a finger to my lips and continued, "and if you were a true monster you would never have left Christine leave you when you loved her as much as you claim you do."

The feel of her soft skin pressed determinedly against my deformed lips slowly begins to melt my resolve. Why am I so determined to convince her that I am a monster? Why is she not frightened by my outburst? She blatantly ignored my threat to step away from my chair. She did not back down when faced with my anger. I must say that she is either very brave or very stupid and I know that she is not stupid. She is now caressing my cheek very softly. How can she touch me so gently when I have just threatened her physically? This woman standing before me confuses me so much that I am tempted to flee to my room and lock myself there until she is gone. Her hand on my malformed cheek feels so wonderful that a tear slips from my eye and as she wipes it away I am ashamed of myself for the tantrum I had thrown. "I am sorry," I finally say as more tears begin to fall from my mismatched eyes, "can you ever forgive me? I never meant to threaten you."

"You did not threaten me," she says softly as she wipes my tears away with her gentle fingers. "You simply stated a fact... you do not like to be cornered. I have known many people who feel that way."

"But they have never been cornered as I have been," I state confidant that I am correct in my assumption yet knowing that I am going to have to tell her more of my past in order for her to understand and I really do want her to understand. Why is that? I question myself. That is something I do not understand for I have never felt such a need for understanding from anyone in my entire life. Pushing that thought aside I begin. "When I was about eight years old I ran away from home and in my search for food I stumbled upon a gypsy camp. When they discovered what horrors my face held, I was locked in a cage like an animal and forced to perform without my mask. You do not know how degrading a cage can be," I say as I look into her eyes and see a mixture of understanding and rage there.

"How could anyone treat another human being like that!" she states fiercely as though the thought of such an act was beyond her comprehension. After a moment of silence she reaches out a hand to my cheek. "I am sorry for causing you to feel cornered," she says softly as she gently caresses my cheek.

"There is no need for you to apologize," I say quickly, "It is I who needs to apologize. I should never have threatened you as I did. I promise you, I will never hurt you."

"I know that you will not hurt me," she says as she smiles at me. "After all, is that not what started this argument?"

"You are quite right, that is exactly what started it," I admit reluctantly again feeling ashamed of myself for my foolishness. This woman standing beside me with her soft hand gently caressing my deformed cheek is making me feel things I have never felt before. How can the touch of her hand make me feel like I am in heaven? Does she have any idea what this simple touch is doing to me? I would like nothing more at this moment than to pull her into my arms as I had this morning when she had woken from the nightmare. Needing to distance myself from her suddenly before I do something foolish I stand up and ask, "Are you hungry? I am sure your brother will be waking soon and will be expecting to eat and you need to keep your strength up."

"Now that you mention it I am a bit hungry," she says sensing my need for space.

"I shall go make us something to eat and warm a bottle for Charles," I say glad that she seems to understand.

"Thank you," she replies, "I will see to Charles while you are gone."

I nod in acknowledgement and quickly leave the room deciding on a Persian dish for tonight's dinner.

Upon entering the kitchen I begin the task of preparing our dinner. I decide to wait until Charles wakes before I warm his bottle. When the food is ready and the table is set I go down the hall to get Marie.

As I walk into the room I see that she is holding Charles, who is still sound asleep, in her arms rocking him gently as she hums to him. The song is a familiar one and I wonder a moment how she has memorized the melody so quickly. I have only played 'The Awakening' once in her presence. Perhaps she is just a quick learner with an ear for music I reason with myself before pushing the thought from my mind as I approach the couch. Hating to interrupt her but not wanting our dinner to get cold I say, "Dinner is served."

"If Charles wakes up here will we be able to hear him in the kitchen?" she asks as she rises from her seat.

"Yes, I can assure you that I will hear any sound he might make for I have very good hearing," I say reassuringly.

"Then there is no need for you to carry the crib to the kitchen," she says smiling at me as she carries Charles over to the crib and lays him down gently, making sure that he is still asleep before we leave the room.

We then go the short distance to the kitchen and I pull out a chair for her. "Thank you," she says as she sits down.

"You are quite welcome," I say as I sit down across from her and we begin to eat in companionable silence.

"Would you like to return to the study and read by the fire for a while?" I ask as we finish eating and I clear the table.

"That sounds like a lovely idea," she says as she smiles brightly at me, "I love to read and by the looks of your study I should have no difficulty finding something of interest to become lost in."

"I am certain that you are correct in that assumption," I say as I think of the wide variety of books I have acquired over the years.

With that said we go down the hall to the study and look through the books lining the walls. As it turns out we have similar taste in reading material for she has no trouble selecting a book to read. We settle down in front of the fire and each become engrossed in what we are reading. A half-hour after settling down to read Charles wakes up needing to be changed and wanting fed.

"Why don't you go warm a bottle while I change him," Marie suggests as she leaves the room to get a diaper for him.

"As you wish," I say as I do as I am told.

When I return she places him in my arms and watches me intently as I settle down on the chair to feed him. It is quite remarkable how I have so quickly adjusted to caring for an infant and find it difficult to remember how I had lived just a few days ago without the presence of Marie and Charles in my life. What has she done to me to make me forget about life before she had entered it? Realizing that Marie is still watching me I push these thoughts from my mind. Glancing down at Charles I see that he has finished his bottle and is sleeping once again. I stand slowly as not to wake him and place him back in the crib.

Once Charles is in the crib Marie picks up her book as I too retrieve mine from where I had sat it and we sit in a comfortable silence, both becoming lost in different worlds portrayed in the pages before us. We continue reading for a few hours until I catch Marie trying to stifle a yawn and I notice that it is getting late. "Why don't we call it a night?" I suggest feeling rather tired myself.

"I think you are right," she admits reluctantly closing the book and setting it aside. She gets up stiffly and walks to the crib. As she picks the baby up she asks, "Could you bring the crib to my room for the night? He should sleep all night and I wouldn't want to trouble you with him."

"He would not be any trouble," I begin but think better of it realizing that if I insist that he stays in my room for the night she would inevitably see my room and I do not really want her to see that I sleep in a coffin. "But," I continue, "Perhaps it would be best that he sleep close to you. After all, it is you he is used to waking near."

As I place the crib in her room and she places Charles, who is sleeping peacefully, into the crib she asks, "Would you please stay with me until I fall asleep?"

"Of course," I reply not being able to resist the thought of once again watching her as she sleeps.

"Thank you," she says as she enters the bathroom.

"You are welcome," I reply as I walk over to the sofa.

I sit here waiting for her to come out of the bathroom, wondering what the morning will bring. Her crying my name as she had done this morning? With this thought the memory of her in my arms causes me to wonder if I will ever hold her like that again. She had felt so good in my arms. Her skin was so soft and smooth beneath my comforting hands. The feel of her body against mine was almost unbearable. How could anything feel so glorious? And then after I had fled to my room early and she had begged me to step out into the hall I had not expected her to embrace me as she had and I had wished that I did not have Charles in my arms so I could have returned the embrace. I had no choice but to distance myself from her quickly for I did not trust myself to hold onto Charles when at that moment I wished to be holding her instead. But even that brief contact was quite exquisite. Why am I having these feelings for this young woman that I barely even know? It cannot be lust... I outgrew that emotion long ago. I do not love her... I loved Christine and I did not have these feelings. This woman and these strange feelings confuse me so!

Hearing the door opening I look up and see that she is wearing the nightgown I had placed on her the other night. She is so lovely and graceful as she walks towards the bed. Crawling under the covers she looks my way and says, "Please come sit with me Erik. It is much more comforting knowing you are close by my side as I fall asleep."

Unable to resist the pleading sound in her voice I say, "As you wish," as I slowly get up from the sofa and walk the short distance to the bed sitting on the edge and taking her hand in mine as I had done the night before. "I will be right here until you fall asleep, Marie. If you need me all you have to do is call for me and I will be by your side in a heartbeat."

"Thank you Erik." she says as she gently squeezes my hand. "I really appreciate all you have done for Charles and me. I do not know what I would have done without you."

"I am glad to be of service," I say softly as she drifts off to sleep. I am tempted to press a kiss to her forehead but quickly push the thought out of my mind. As soon as I am sure she is asleep I quietly get up and retire to my own room for the night. As I get ready for bed I cannot help but remember her in my arms once more and with that thought in my mind I quickly fall asleep.